


A Chipmunk Named César

by Renata Lord (snowlight)



Category: Narcos (TV)
Genre: Animal Transformation, Fluff, M/M, Magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:54:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24532624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowlight/pseuds/Renata%20Lord
Summary: When César randomly turns into a chipmunk.
Relationships: César Gaviria/Eduardo Sandoval
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	A Chipmunk Named César

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lokiikol](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokiikol/gifts).



> This might requires a bit of suspension of disbelief. I plead magical realism and the mighty power of fluff.  
> Not an endorsement for approaching wild chipmunks. They bite.

This time, César turns into a chipmunk on a Wednesday.

“This is most inconvenient,” groans Eduardo, “why Wednesday? Why _today_? What am I going to tell your ministers? And the Paisas? Oh, and the Cubans are still waiting for your reply. They’re getting antsy.”

“You’ll think of something, I have complete trust in you,” says Chipmunk César cheerfully. He’s focusing on getting the shell off a pistachio. This he accomplishes with impressive speed, given that the nut is about half the size of his head. He looks to Eduardo, who is busy going through the papers on the president’s desk. He chews on the pistachio for a bit before saying thoughtfully: “We could always try the old trick to see if it turns me back or not.”

Eduardo only shoots him a weary glance.

“What? What?” Chipmunk César jumps onto the desk and lands right on top of the cover of an official memo from the Ministry of Foreign Trade. He stomps his tiny, pointy feet. “You don’t know that it won’t work this time!”

“Have I ever told you that you’re really bossy when you’re like this?” Eduardo sighs and holds out a hand. Chipmunk César, still holding onto the pistachio, quickly climbs into his palm. Eduardo raises his hand so that their eyes are more or less level.

“I _am_ your boss, you know!” Chipmunk César’ whiskers are shaking with righteous indignation. They are very fine whiskers, really.

“Oh? So it’s my boss who's trying to con a kiss out of this situation?” Eduardo’s eyes have never looked so blue. It’s the morning light, César decides.

“Are you going to kiss me or not?”

“As you wish, Mr. President.”

It’s funny how Eduardo still closes his eyes every time they kiss. 

*

Before this, it had always been Sundays.

Eduardo remembers that first Sunday morning well. After all, it’s impossible to forget something like that. He went into his boss’ study and, instead of finding the Minister of Finance, got jumped by a chipmunk.

“Eduardo!” and the chipmunk squeaked in delight. “Good morning, Eduardo!”

“…Sir?” He didn’t really have to ask, though. As ridiculous as it was, he _knew_ the furball clinging to his free arm was César, just like he knew sky was blue and Colombian coffee was the best in the world.

“What happened to you?!”

Chipmunk César sniffed him like he was a walnut. “I woke up like this. It happens.”

“What do you mean, _it happens_?” He sat down because the chipmunk—no, _his boss_ —had bounced onto his chest and was now hanging off the hem of his jacket.

“Don’t worry, it’s not frequent or anything. The last incident was years and years ago.” César looked up at him and Eduardo discovered that chipmunks could smile. It was nothing like the thoughtful, borderline pensive little grin that he sometimes spotted on his boss’ face. As a chipmunk, César radiated pure joy. So much so that he could almost forget about the stack of papers inside his suitcase.

“When are you going to change back?”

“I dunno,” Chipmunk César waved a…hand? A paw? “It varies. But this lasts no more than twenty-four hours, usually.”

“And you still have your mental faculties, yes?”

“I never do any work when I’m like this,” César announced matter-of-factly. “But it’s okay, you can do the work for me until I change back!”

It was definitely _not_ okay for the personal secretary of the Minister of Finance to forge the said minister’s signatures, and Eduardo emphatically said so.

“You’re so strict!” Chipmunk César nibbled at his lapels. Eduardo could feel a soft tail brushing against his jaw. “C’mon! It will be our little secret. Speaking of which, oh, oh, do you want to hear my secrets, Eduardo? I have so many. SO MANY!”

It would be _most_ inappropriate for a cabinet minister to go around spilling secrets, and Eduardo emphatically said so.

For a moment Chipmunk César looked so crestfallen that Eduardo almost relented, but he stayed strong because he had to, for both of them. He wouldn’t let the chipmunk do something that the man would surely regret tomorrow.

“Look, the schedule is tight. Let’s get to work. I can read all the reports and give you a summary, then all you have to do is sign the papers first thing tomorrow morning… Sir? Did you hear what I said, sir?”

Clearly César did not hear a word of what he said, because César looked at him and said: “Kiss me.”

It would be a barefaced lie to say that he hadn’t dreamed of hearing those words. But even though he had entertained ( _dream-wished_ ) dozens of scenarios for a first kiss, none of them involved a chipmunk, let alone one named César.

“Eduardo?” Chipmunk César was grabbing at his collar now. “I want to you to kiss me.”

He didn’t dare to move.

“Sir, you are not a frog,” he coughed diplomatically. _And I am not a prince._

“So?”

Eduardo reached out and gingerly touched Chipmunk César’s puffed-up cheek. This is completely wrong, he thought. This is his boss, who’s thirteen years older than him, who’s probably going to be the president of the republic one day. And for the love of God, _he is a chipmunk_.

But then César rubbed against the pad of his finger and Eduardo wanted the earth to open up and swallow him.

“I think it might help me turning back! C’mon, don’t be shy! Kiss me!”

César the man was patience personified; the chipmunk, not so much. Still, Eduardo mounted a last-ditch attempt at defense.

“Sir, I have to—I have to work for you come tomorrow morning!”

“Why are you calling me ‘sir’, anyway? You never call me ‘sir.’” The chipmunk grabbed onto his finger like it’s a life raft. He didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry.

“I am trying to remind you of your station,” he muttered as he raised his hand to eye level. César climbed onto the back of his hand and was now staring intently at him.

“And I’m trying to get a kiss! Where is it written that a government minister can’t get a kiss?”

“I—” he tries to stand up, but César wouldn’t let him. “I can go get—”

“Ugh! You stupid boy!”

With that, the chipmunk leaned over and gave him a lip-smacking kiss.

For the record, it didn’t change César back.

And César kissed him again the next Monday. As a human, with more than just lips.


End file.
